Your body hurled to the ground with a loud thud. Back against the wall, knees scrunched and hands tied behind your back. A bountiful cough escapes your throat as you regain composure.

With your already fading vision, you make out the figure of your bodyguard? Your stomach churns as the betrayal sinks in.

Using one hand he grips your face, forcing you to face him, as if this was amusing.

“Sorry love,” he says in a sarcastic low tone, the barrel of his gun pressing against your forehead.